


Hallelujah, hallelujah

by joouheika



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 05:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10802493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joouheika/pseuds/joouheika
Summary: Ymir taught her it's alright to cry so long as the tears are tears of happiness. MAJOR SPOILERS UP TO CHP 93





	Hallelujah, hallelujah

_Is there some kind of hidden message?_

That is what they had asked her.

Historia stands within her room, in front of her desk. The sunlight streaming in through the clear pane of glass of the tall window. Warming the gold of her hair, the skin of her face, but nothing more than the surface of her being.

Historia holds Ymir's letter out before her and reads it once again within the privacy of her own confines and her own vices.

When they had asked that...

She had not been entirely truthful.

Because what they had been asking was, was there a message there for them? For humanity? For Eldians? For the people of these walls she rules?

There is no such encryption.

There are no tips or insights.

But there is a message, one only she understands.

Each and every one of her hopes dashed with it.

She knows with this message that... Ymir is never coming home to her.

Because simply, it is something she would never say... it is something she cannot say.

It is a secret message for Historia alone.

_I'm sorry, I can't marry you yet._

How could Ymir?

Historia knows this because... it's too late. There was no need for these words. 

They'd already wed.

Around that time... upon that snowy mountain where they'd made that other promise...

\--

Before Ymir.

Who was she?

She had sworn to live the rest of her life as Krista Lenz.

She'd thrown away her name to take up a life no one had wanted her to have. But no one had wanted her to have the life she was born into. Even if she had wanted it, she could not have it. And the only other person beside Ymir who had desired for her happiness had also wanted to protect her from the ugly truths of this small, confined world, big sis Frieda- who had sealed all recollection of any other facts.

So she was alone.

Before Ymir.

Warmth was hard to come by.

Her mother who wouldn't hold her, her father who couldn't hold her.

She didn't deserve it.

It'd be wasted on her, an existence sentenced to die even before she knew what living was.

Who she really was meant to be.

So it'd made her so happy, to learn what happiness was.

When naturally, whenever she pleased, whenever she felt like it- Ymir touched her.

She stroked her hair, she touched her cheek, she threw an arm over her shoulders and gave her a big squeeze. Always complimenting her when she felt it was merited, always wanting her attention and affection, always looking at her and after her.

Always thinking about her.

Ymir acknowledged Krista and filled her existence. 

She gave her contrast.

Krista came to be so easily because Ymir was there beside her.

Ymir wanted to know her. Ymir had followed her after all even when she hadn't need to. She could have lived the rest of her second chance at life, pick pocketing her way about peacefully. Undetected. Safe. Even though she kept saying 'it wasn't for Krista's sake, but her own' as if it was so important Krista understood how selfish and bad she was being, that she was coveting Krista as her safety net due to her lineage, her heritage. It was important she know this because Ymir didn't want her to make the same mistakes she had. But even after all that, it wasn't all like that was it? And if it had been, even a little... behind all those lies Ymir liked to hide with, shield herself and others from her. Because being kind only causes pain. Trouble. Hardship. Ymir has no room to talk.

Krista starts to see Ymir for who she really is.

For all Ymir's efforts some of the same mistakes are made.

And... Ymir has seen through Krista.

Krista is a good girl.

Ymir knows what good girls are like having to once live that life herself.

But she is not a good girl, Ymir had told her.

Then she cannot be Krista, she thought.

Who is she?

A bad girl who shouldn't even exist.

Why can't she exist?

Frieda had told her long ago.

She should be like the good girl in the storybook- kind, giving, selfless.

Krista tries to be all those things, and feels bad when she falls short, because that's how good girls are.

Krista loves Ymir and is grateful for her friendship, chides her for her harsh words, and wants to hug her back just as tight.

Is that who she really is?

Is that what she really wants?

The good girl Krista had made a promise and a promise is a promise.

But is it really Krista who wants all those things... isn't it really, what that bad girl had wanted?

Historia Reiss.

(-is in love with Ymir. She's the most alive when Ymir is by her side. She revels in her truthful words, to get that excuse to play pretend and live another day. She wants to hold Ymir to her, kiss her all over and never let her go, she'll never let go- for every 'That's my Krista!' she thinks just the same, 'Her Ymir' is-)

The enemy of mankind.

_Tear this tower down Ymir! Tear it all down! Trying to act good and heroic in the end, dying a death the brave would, isn't going to get the likes of you into heaven even now!_

They are the enemies of mankind.

Ymir was always thinking of her, protecting her.

She didn't need to follow her, she could have ran away from it all.

Krista, would have pushed her away. Throw me away. Live. Protect yourself.

But Ymir had told her to reclaim her real name, her old self. And so she had.

That bad girl.

Who shouldn't even be alive.

If she lived what sort of person would she be?

A selfish girl, thinking and doing all that she wanted, all for her own sake. Living proudly, defiantly with her head held high.

Historia trusts in Ymir who has looked after her this whole time, even when she was not herself. She doesn't want to be thrown away ever again. She wants to live. She wants to protect Ymir too as Ymir has protected her.

She did not want Ymir to go. So when Ymir had captured her after being taken from her, had confessed to only using her this whole time, that she was scared of everything- Historia didn't give a damn.

She is Ymir's greatest ally, and the rest of the world could go to hell before them.

She still means every word.

Ymir is her everything.

Ymir had saved her.

She had changed her fate even when her own could not be changed.

Ymir...

Said she had decided, if she got a second chance at life she was going to do what she wanted.

Historia sits down at her desk and takes out parchment, ink and quill.

Penning a letter in reply.

_Ymir, is this what you wanted?_

\---

Didn't she remember?

That other promise they'd made on that snowy night?

Their fellow trainees were glad to see them back, and Daz was alive by some miracle; they all were. The storm had died down quite a bit, but it'd started to snow again. Lightly. Everyone had turned in for the night finally. Ymir and Krista planned on joining the others soon after putting away the more extensive of their equipment in the spare shack for that when Ymir had dropped something.

Krista had reached to pick it up for her.

The good girl Krista would have just handed it to Ymir without question.

Especially as Ymir swore when she saw what she had dropped, but Historia-

She'd opened the box.

A small silver ring with a stone carved pink rose atop it.

It'd taken her breath away how pretty it is, and Ymir must have seen the stars in her eyes and the radiance of her gaze as she understood, for Ymir to stutter- "D-dammit I was saving that for later!"

At that time.

Krista turns her gaze from the ring to Ymir.

"Did you... get this for me Ymir?"

Ymir's laugh is loud and haughty, but the bluff isn't played through like it typically is.

"Why would you think that Krista?! Obviously it's just something I picked up to trade in for some cash! You know good girls wouldn't think like that- ow!"

Krista has rammed her head up into Ymir's chin to get her to stop talking.

Nearly pouting as she huffs.

"Can't you just be glad you didn't drop it when you were doing that big secret mission of yours so we wouldn't all die, Miss Hero?"

Ymir's look sours at that remark but it softens, since she was glad for that... and Krista's fine silky hair beneath her chin, sticking beneath her cheek.

"I don't see why you have to lie all the time Ymir. Didn't you tell me that's what I shouldn't be doing?"

Ymir turns a bit red at that.

"You're a real piece of work you know that-"

"I know," Krista replies, though the words are someone else's, "And I know this ring is meant for me."

Ymir hushes, contemplative yet reverent before Krista's... no... someone's sure words. A gaze full of faith. 

She heaves a sigh before tightly clasping her arms around Krista.

Krista gives out a squeak of surprise when Ymir's embrace is too strong even for her.

"As expected of my Krista! Of course I can't hide anything from you!"

Krista wants to pout at that too since there is something Ymir is hiding. But she'll know one day... and when that day comes Ymir will know the real her as well.

She can't pout anymore, grimacing because-

"Y-ymir I can't breathe-! Let me, down-!"

Ymir had picked her up and her feet are far from the ground. Kicking behind her weakly.

Ymir sets her back down all smiles, "Sorry sorry, _did that hurt?_ "

Krista can tell Ymir is getting back at her for head butting her chin, she's half the mind to show her the bruises she got when Ymir had thrown her down that hill and she'd hit that tree! All the snow had piled on her! It was already so damn cold too!

In a looser grip and her feet back on the ground, Krista places a hand against Ymir's chest, her breast slightly and leans up on her tip toes. Kissing beneath Ymir's chin. "So it won't hurt anymore," she says.

Delighting in the fact that Ymir completely freezes beneath her lips, unbelieving- wanting-

"You... do you... want me to k-kiss you so it don't hurt a-anym-"

Krista draws back with a giggle.

"What's that Ymir? So you are aware how hard you threw me!"

Krista head butts Ymir in the chest.

"Admit it!" she continues, still laughing, cheeks pink and body warm from being so close to Ymir.

She looks up, some of her hair still stuck to Ymir's chin as Ymir looks down at her. Tenderly. Hungrily.

Ymir leans forward.

Her lips cover hers.

Drawing her closer to her, that box with the ring snapped shut and still within Krista's grasp.

With the distance no longer, even with the silver moonlight darkening Ymir's form with her back to it. Krista can still see. The thickness and length of Ymir's heavy eyelashes. Each and every freckle Krista has imagined kissing, unable to count them all before she fell asleep. Trying again when she woke in the middle of the night, from a dream she can't recall. She'd been in a field of wheat and someone- with hair dark like Ymir's had been there- had she been dreaming of Ymir? That made sense.

She should close her eyes, that's what good girls do.

Krista closes them eventually, after she counts some of those freckles she loves, feeling Ymir's tongue press to hers, tasting. Sucking. Biting at a lower lip, relenting, as their mouths part. Their breath holding and grey in the cold of the shack.

"At the very least... let me ask first before you say it's yours," Ymir says, her voice a hushed and breathless Krista has never heard, a soft she's unaccustomed. It opening her right up. Gaping and expanding, a welling desire she's hidden deep inside her where she's hidden everything else-

_Promise me, when I reveal to you my secret- you'll show all those bastards who wanted your life a thing or two! You'll take back your name!_

"You've already asked Ymir," Krista replies. Ymir had asked for her hand on their first meeting, had declared and would again after all this; during what was only supposed to be a training exercise but would turn out to be more. Even though already, today they'll be- Ymir turns red, recalling. "Properly! Dammit!"

Krista reaches to stroke Ymir's cheek.

"Then, go ahead."

Ymir stills again, a pained look in her eyes.

Another secret or the same one? Krista wonders.

"Not right now... it's not... the right time," Ymir says, haltingly, hesitant.

"Then when?" Krista asks, "After I know everything? When I tell you my name?"

It was that and not that, Krista sees from Ymir's expression. Then, will that time ever come? It may not she realises.

Krista sucks in a breath and gathers her resolve, she (no, Historia) was merely being greedy.

"It's fine Ymir. I'm plenty satisfied with the proposal of before."

"What?!" Ymir says, looking far more scandalised than she has merit to.

Krista continues, nodding, more to Ymir than herself.

She pulls at Ymir's arm to draw her hand before her, Krista pushes the box into her palm.

"I accept. But I won't wait until this is all over. I want to marry you right now Ymir."

Ymir's lips part and her brow furrows as a myriad of emotions cross over her face- joy, achievement, gratefulness, then-

"You're an easy girl to please."

Guilt.

That feeling.

Krista feels a heat burn within her, almost like anger, past frustration, a rise to a challenge.

Unforgiving.

The only guilt she wants Ymir to feel is for having that feeling to begin with.

Krista holds out her hand.

"Put it on for me will you?"

Ymir drops to one knee. Opening up the box, the usual amused curve about her lips that Krista is used to. At the sight of it, she wants to give a sigh of relief. But she holds that breath as Ymir places the engagement ring upon her finger. It's a little loose but it fits enough. Perhaps she lost some weight from the time Ymir had planned this. 

When Ymir rises back to her feet- Krista leans forward to kiss her.

Ymir's hand in her hair.

Krista can feel Ymir's heart beat against her breast, above the sound of her own quickening heart.

Krista pulls Ymir to her closer.

Their eyes locked in on the other's, and Ymir as she always does, sees _her_ \- though she knows not her name yet.

Only knows it is not Krista who asks her,

"Are you sure I'm so easy to please?"

\--

They'd rolled out the sleeping mats and blankets that'd been in their packs during the training. 

It's cold in the shack without a fire, but warm enough after they've removed each other's clothes and moved beneath the blankets. Both using the excuse of the cold to only catch glimpses of each other's bodies though they've already seen it all. From sneaking looks the other may or may not have noticed being taken a gander at before. As they changed in the morning, bathed after a long day of training, shopped for clothes. When Krista was confident she'd win at wrestling from the new moves Annie taught her, but Ymir was always much quicker. A shirt rose up. When Ymir copped a feel beneath her skirt complaining how else was she going to help Krista walk back to the dorms, Krista who'd drank too much? Whose fault had that been Krista had retorted, Ymir had pushed the wine onto her. Stupid Ymir. Krista had gotten her own revenge after Ymir fell asleep, or so she'd thought Ymir teases her. Teases her all the while as Krista straddles her thigh. Kissing her face all over, her cheeks, her chin, her mouth.

Ymir's hands over her hips as she moves them, humping Ymir's thigh. Ymir's skin slick from her sweat, their sweat, and how wet Krista already is. From a couple kisses, a couple looks, and Ymir's roaming, straying hands. Climbing up her back, touching at her loose and let down hair, letting the golden strands glance across the tops of her fingers, the knuckles. Before sliding the tips of her fingers, the fullness of her touch over Krista's small breasts. Marveling at their petite, compact softness, the pink of her nipples the same as her lips. Krista moans. Ymir growing just as wet.

Krista's hips dipping, rolling, urging for Ymir to push up against her. To meet her.

As Krista lowers herself down, her belly at the sharp angle of Ymir's hip. Krista pants as she kisses Ymir's throat, sucking on it, moving to kiss and suck at Ymir's nipples. Krista musing how Ymir's breasts feel bigger bare than they did beneath her clothes. Ymir swearing at her when she shares such opinion aloud.

Their breasts and nipples pushed and rubbing against each other's as they reach to meet and kiss, over the lips. Krista's tongue in Ymir's mouth, gliding, tasting with hers as Ymir reaches between them. Caressing Krista's stomach, slipping down to her crotch. The knuckles of her fingers wet from the fluids Krista had spilt there. Then the rest of her fingers so as she slides them inside Krista, between her soft folds, pressing up and probing slightly, feeling when her fingers find her clit. Krista shuddering in her embrace, her hips rolling some more as she rubs herself against Ymir's fingers. Ymir touching her.

Ymir's touch is always full of warmth, fondness, a gentleness she denies in her character, though it was that gentleness that brought Ymir to her. Krista cups Ymir's face and kisses her harder. Cumming when Ymir's fingers slip deeper inside, teasing her enough. Krista pushes Ymir down on the mat, across the small pillows. Fingers feeling at the short locks of Ymir's dark hair wondering what it'd be like longer, just as soft. Krista looking over Ymir's face beneath the moonlight, tapping ever lightly at a freckle, another, counting. Pleasure thrumming through her, yet not enough. Not yet. Again. More. She wants-

Ymir laughs.

"What are you doing? That tickles!"

As does Krista's hair, falling over her throat, hovering atop her collarbone.

Krista kisses her briefly, gently across the lips.

As they look to the other-

Ymir's eyelashes fluttering almost sleepily.

She tells Ymir-

"Do you think that's all it takes for me to be satisfied? We've yet to be fully wed with only that."

She... Historia has read a lot of books. So even if Ymir didn't know, she did.

Krista kisses down Ymir's body, insatiable.

The blanket falling down with her form as she moves back. She feels Ymir shiver from the cold, then shudder as Krista spreads her legs and lowers herself between them. Pushing Ymir open, so she can see all of her. Her fingers wet. Then her mouth as she leans forward to give a lick, a taste more. Krista eats Ymir out. Her tongue reaching and licking up inside her. The strands of her hair that once stuck to Ymir's cheek, now to the top of her sticky thigh, the insides of them as they flex and clench as she does around Krista's tongue, her mouth. Krista's nose rubbing against her, feeling the coarseness of the hair there. Inhaling her scent, as Ymir had done with her face buried against Krista's neck before.

Ymir gasps, moans, clutching at the bedding before weaving her fingers into Krista's hair. Her head bobbing, as Krista is determined to lick her clean. It impossible, an orgasm shaking through her, another as Krista seeks to consume her, have her, make her truly hers. Know her.

There is so much about Ymir she has yet to know.

Her own taste on Krista's lips when Krista climbs back over her and Ymir kisses her. Ymir wanting to taste Krista too, she rolls them over and goes down on her as well. When even that isn't enough, Ymir pulls Krista to her, stretching her body away. Krista laying back likewise. Both their legs spread, one hooked over the other's, until both their crotches touch, their wet folds folding over the other's as they move their hips. Meeting. The friction pleasurable pressured heat. They cum against one another.

If not for the hardship of the day, dragged into the night. Ymir thinks... Krista would want to go on until morning.

Ymir too is tired.

Exhausted but content enough, after catching their breath. Ymir saying "Wow," and Krista echoing that "Wow," as well they roll over to lie back together, pulling the blankets over one another. Ymir pulling the blanket up a bit too far. Krista compensates by scooting up on the bedding so their faces are at level with each other.

Ymir kisses her.

"Is that married enough for you? My greedy wife?"

Krista kisses Ymir on the cheek, she won't go to sleep just yet, not until she's done counting she's convinced herself.

"Wasn't it you who were going to be my wife? Didn't you tell everyone that?"

Ymir did tell everyone that. When all the titans are gone, what sort of lives would they like to lead? They'd been discussing such a topic. So Ymir had said in answer. She'd become Krista's wife.

Ymir waves a hand, lazily. "Po-tay-toe... po-tah-toe...." she drawls.

Krista rubs her nose to Ymir's giggling, "What are you doing sounding like Sasha? Silly Ymir."

Ymir's grin is plenty silly, sobering as she says-

"I love you, Krista."

Krista looks at her fondly.

"I love you too Ymir."

Then-

Krista stock still in surprise... before easing, chiding, as she wipes at the tears streaming down Ymir's cheeks.

"What's this? Don't cry on such a happy occasion, stupid."

Ymir lets Krista wipe away all her tears, before she does the same for her, laughing.

"I'm crying 'cause it is. What about you? You're crying too. Stupid."

Snuggling up against each other.

Ymir falls asleep with a smile on her face.

Her arms around Krista. Krista turns a little in her embrace. To hold her hand up to the moon. She looks at her ring. The snow still falls softly, white and untouched on the mountain top.

Musing to herself, if Ymir is the wife and she is the husband, won't she have to get the wedding rings?

Krista falls asleep smiling as well, as she'd started to pictured what sort of rings she'd get for them.

"Leave it to me," she'd told Ymir, falling asleep before she could finish counting Ymir's freckles, as she always fails to do.

Even though Ymir is so much closer and she could see them better... it is just so comfortable where she is.

\--

Historia sits up in her chair.

Giving a stretch before she continues writing.

The sunlight from her window diminishing as dusk settles in, giving way to the night.

She lights a candle, still not used to the light of the stones they'd recovered. And continues writing beneath the light of the flame. Recalling how she always needed to remind Ymir, that the end was not the end. They were already married, so it was silly for Ymir to keep asking her over and over again to marry her. Or was that just Ymir's excuse? For Krista to remind her...

Historia continues her letter.

Telling Ymir all that had happened after she left.

How she had met her father.

How she'd remembered her big sister who'd been kind to her, in a way different from how Ymir had been kind to her, but almost the same.

Familiar in how it'd been full of love.

That she'd become Queen of the walls.

That she'd started an orphanage for kids that are like them. Abandoned from circumstance, without love, without a future. She wanted to give them that first chance that every person should be born with, regardless of their status, their parents, their past.

She wants to give them hope.

Like Ymir had given her hope to live.

They'd tried to kill her again, she tells her but this time she'd told them no.

It was all thanks to Ymir.

When she'd wondered why her sister had refused to fight even though she'd been so strong. She remembered Ymir. If you fight you have to fight for something, someone, so if you must fight- let it be for yourself. And her sister was not a selfish person. Her sister had wanted to live but she understood, if she fought she could die and what use was she dead? When she had a duty to harbor within her, a power too frightening for even this already cruel world-

These were her thoughts before they'd learned of the outside.

The repercussions of this power. With each use how it brought you closer to death.

Her sister had wanted to live.

And there was nothing wrong with that.

Ymir had taught her that.

The light of the sun as it'd broken out and destroyed the long desolate night, replacing the moon that should have been their only reassurance, yet instead had revealed and wrought a nightmare. At the top of that tower. Ymir had stood before her then, and even after declaring she would live for herself and no one else- she had told her-

To do just the same.

She didn't have any right she'd said.

Even while she had every right, Krista (no, Historia) had felt, since already Ymir is hers.

It had been her desire.

What Ymir wanted.

What she'd been giving all of her second chance to even before they'd met.

She'd been giving herself to her.

_Live as yourself, with your head held high._

Your dream, your desires, your life.

Are important and dear.

To yourself.

For it to be as such to another, for that someone to know you through and through and understand you-

_I just think our backgrounds aren't so different from each other's._

_You... wanted to become my friend?_

To Historia that was something she'd thought she'd never know.

Ymir had not even known her name, and yet Ymir knew her.

Protected her.

Saved her.

Loves her.

There is nothing Historia can do for Ymir, except-

_What's this crap about god?! That's just an excuse so you can run away! I'm not having it! I won't let you kill me! Not again! Never again!_

She's decided with all her might, she's going to live.

\--

It's her first time seeing the ocean.

This outing has been planned for quite some time. But it's more by her will than some formality that she is leaving the safety of the walls to take a look at the anti-naval security that the Survey Corps have been working on. Already deflecting fleets of intruders, the people of Marley, who lie across the sea, wanting to finish them off and take their resources over. Through new inventions, the strength of the titans they'd once abhorred not knowing it to be their own, the strength of their selves, their experience and history. They, the Eldians of Paradis fend them off for the time being.

Historia looks over the vast body of blue, blue... Armin had mentioned only because of the sky, the light.

The sky a likewise colour, stretching out to the horizon, reaching and touching a land she doesn't know. A continent Ymir had once been and driven from. The sins of everyone she'd been taught to love on her shoulders, weighing her down.

It was only when she'd taken up the weight of a love of her choosing that it had given her strength, to return from whence she came, to do what is right. Ymir... is so stupid. That is what Historia had thought on reading her letter. If she lived for herself, but died for someone else's sake, wasn't that contradicting herself?

It wasn't fair, Ymir is unfair, exactly like a god.

Even now Historia wants to yell, her voice which won't cross that far over, on how Ymir should have just run away, should have just let her die, should have abandoned her to be free. She was her number one ally wasn't she? She could have done that for her.

Then Ymir could have lived.

Looking at the golden ring on her finger Historia knows why though.

Ymir had made so many promises and unlike everyone else in Historia's life, she had kept each and every one.

She lived as she wanted, loved as she wanted, gave as she wanted.

She meant what she said.

And exactly as she'd said, with her second chance she had lived to the fullest.

However short her newfound freedom had been.

Even if what she wanted meant revealing what she'd been trying to hide from this whole while, the past that taught her to be kind, to be selfless, to care for others.

She'd done all that, and made sure Historia had a future.

What use was this future without Ymir?

She wants to ask, but Historia knows that's just her being greedy again.

Because she is a selfish person...

The waves crash upon the shore, wetting her boots.

Historia looks over the frothy waves, the scattered sea life upon the shore. The salty scent familiar, but the rest of decay and founding life mixed in, exclusive to the sea itself.

The wind blows through her hair and also his. It's gotten even longer from the last time she saw it.

She remembers when Ymir had grown out her hair. She'd gifted her a hair clip Ymir ended up always wearing, even though Ymir complained at first it was so girly, and why don't she keep it for herself?

Eren turns to her, having been showing her around.

His expression one she remembers on herself, having fallen into the darkness when Ymir left... no, it is like that but different. Eren is still falling, exhausted from not yet reaching the end.

He will not until-

"What do you think, Your Highness?"

Historia brings her hands up, a slight embarrassed smile about her lips on being called that but it washes away with the next crashing of the waves. Eren looks too tired to even be corrected and Historia will not push it.

"The sea... is exactly as Armin had described it."

They'd tried to be subtle but sometimes the other trainees had overheard his conversations with Eren. Mikasa always not listening in carefully like the rest but preferring to look at Eren as he listened with intensity for someone who had heard the same story time and time again.

He knew it by heart, and could picture it almost like he'd already seen it.

Probably at some point in his dreams he'd already seen it.

Historia understands that melancholy, though her wheat fields are not the same as the sea.

"It's beautiful," Historia continues, trailing, searching for what else, thinking only of Ymir as the words leave her lips.

"I think so too," a voice says behind her.

It is Mikasa, trailing behind Armin who looks a little sheepish for not having said anything first despite he was in the lead. He'd been a little flustered that his description (he'd only been going off of a book he'd read!) was being praised, and by the Queen.

They both bow slightly on meeting her.

Armin goes over some of what Eren had not bothered to explain (more technical talk of the inventions for the defensive measures). Mikasa is asking Eren if he's cold and would like to borrow her scarf since the chill from the ocean and the breeze is brisk with evening approaching. He holds a hand out to her, shaking his head, saying she best keep it for herself. He's fine. 

Historia touches a hand to her breast pocket where she has her letter to Ymir. Wondering which of them would be best.

Looking over Eren, Armin. Contemplating. Glancing, at the fluttering familiar red of Mikasa's scarf, briefly trailing behind her as they begin to walk ahead. Eren and Armin talking amongst themselves, Mikasa following.

Historia hangs back.

About to call out when Armin turns around remembering-

"Your Highness! Have you been in the water yet? You should try it! Just take your shoes off and wade a bit, it's really nice! There's lots of interesting stuff in the water, not only on the shore. And if you're worried about something in the water... you can always carry your shoes just in case like Mikasa did!"

Mikasa's expression is almost sour at Armin for that remark, but it relents when she sees it makes Eren laugh lightly, on recalling her bumbling about the ocean, unsure. Her boots in hand.

"I agree with Armin," she says, turning to Historia fully. They'd all stopped when Armin had, and started speaking to her. Mikasa points to a rock close by. "You can sit there and take them off."

Historia nods, an idea occurring.

"Sounds good, but... will you help me, Mikasa?"

\--

Armin and Eren are a ways away to talk more about defense tactics. 

Historia doesn't mind if they over hear but she doubts from how engrossed it looks Eren is at Armin's every word she will be. Just like old times, she thinks, a little warmly. Recalling their trainee days some more. Mikasa is knelt before her, reaching for her boot laces. It's best like this. So there's no interruption though she feels bad to take away Mikasa's precious time with them.

"I'm sorry Mikasa," she says, Mikasa halting. Figuring.

"I thought it was odd you'd need help with your shoes. They look fine."

No knots or anything. 

Mikasa looks up at her from where she's kneeling. She does not rise, not yet with what Historia has to say next.

"Truthfully, I wanted to talk with only you. I have a mission for you."

Mikasa's already serious face turns ever more so.

Attentive, she listens. Looks.

Historia reaches into her breast pocket and takes out the letter she'd written in reply.

"I don't know when you'll get the chance, or if you'll even get a chance. But if by some miracle you can do it, I'm entrusting this letter to you."

Historia holds out the letter to Mikasa. Taking it. Mikasa's eyes widen on feeling there is not only paper inside. She looks from Historia's hands folded in her lap, to her face. Determined and absolute. the visage of a Queen hiding what's been sealed away. Mikasa sympathising for her feelings, but understanding- almost horrified-

Historia continues, calmly.

"If you should meet them, I want you to give this letter to Ymir's successor."

A soldier that will no doubt come with others from across the ocean to attack them.

That person who now holds within them what remains of Ymir.

Mikasa's eyes narrow but she understands. Pocketing the precious letter. Historia jumping slightly, as Mikasa takes up her hand and bows down to kiss it, the finger with the matching ring.

"I understand. Your Highness. Please do not worry... I am strong! I will do it!"

Historia sighs a heavy sigh of relief, "Thank you! Mikasa!"

Mikasa looks up at her smiling face and nearly smiles in turn.

In the distance.

"Jean if you leave your mouth hanging open like that, flies may not get in it here but some bird might fly into it ya know?"

As if to prove his point some gulls fly overhead, crying out.

Connie is snickering at Jean whose mouth indeed had been gaping. At the sight before him of Mikasa bent over and kissing Historia's hand. His whole face red. Expression envious yet confused. Connie's expression is more teasing than knowing the reason to his embarrassment. It's a sly that Sasha overlooks as she comes up hollering behind them.

"Eh?! Is everyone here? And I was hoping to eat most of this myse- ah no no! I'm not like that anymore! Kris- I mean Hist- ER UHM, _YOUR HIGHNESS!_ YES YOUR HIGHNESS! If you wait a moment I'll have the fire going for this feast!"

Sasha had been carry a whole load of supplies, a hefty box in her arms of fine fresh meats and fish, and a basket of vegetables and herbs looped in her arm.

Connie carrying some supplies for the fire and utensils for eating, while Jean is merely holding a bottle of wine he'd dropped but thankfully had not broke on hitting the sand.

He hastily picks it up and dusts it off. Looking away from them, still flustered; stuttering excuses and swearing at Connie.

Eren sighs, seeing what they've brought is not enough. He goes to get more firewood, Mikasa following after him and forcing him to let her carry the most of it.

They all help setting up and soon over a roaring fire they're roasting- fish, beef, pork, and chicken- vegetables on kebabs. The hot food shared all around as the night sky settles in above them. The once bright blue sea, changed red and orange, then darkened indigo and a blue close to black. Sprinkled across is the starlight which can't match to the radiance of the moon.

With the fire crackling, the food near all eaten, Jean declares it's time for the wine.

He uncorks the bottle, asking who wants some! Eren declines, having not a taste for alcohol still. Armin wanting to keep discussing the inventions him and Commander Hanji had been talking about before doesn't even hear the offer. Mikasa also shaking her head in refusal, she wants a clear head in case she needs to carry Eren who may be too tired to walk back on his own.

Sasha and Connie are both excitedly at his elbows, their glasses at the ready. Jean sighing, about to pour his own glass first, when Historia takes up a tankard. A determined crease in her brow.

"Fill it up!" she tells him.

Jean, Connie, and Sasha stare at her wide eyed as Jean fills her tankard up to the brim. A cheer rising out of all of them as Historia takes a deep breath. Determined to drink it all at once. Their encouraging cries rising in volume. Armin and Eren even taking in part the cheering as Mikasa slowly claps her hands a couple times in support as Historia downs it without pause. Some of it spilling onto the collar of her shirt, onto the breast pocket of her jacket, dripping over her lips but she still manages to drink it all with that aside.

Slamming her empty tankard down for all to see, the applause rises as they all cheer.

Historia stands, throwing her fists up into the air, the golden band of her wedding ring glinting beneath the light of the moon as she yells.

"HOW'S THAT! Who's next?!"

\--

Their mission had ended in failure.

Before he left, he'd been determined not to return as Reiner did, a wounded warrior bedecked in defeat all but for the fact of recapturing the Jaw titan, that had been stolen from his brother.

Stolen is not even the right enough word, he thinks, since it's not like Ymir could help it as a mindless titan. She'd just been doing what they existed to do. Devour and destroy people. She'd not eaten Marcel with the intent of taking his powers and freeing herself... that is merely what had ended up happening.

Galliard has no grudge against her for that.

Instead that grudge is for Reiner, who had he been more competent a warrior his brother would not have needed to save him... it would have been the Armored titan they'd need to reclaim instead. But even blaming all this on Reiner was pretty shitty. Even if he didn't inherit Marcel's memories he knew his brother well. If he hadn't died saving Reiner then maybe... someone else... like Reiner had almost, so many times for one of those Paradis devils... that is what had puzzled Ymir. She knew their mission so she knew what Reiner ought to be doing.

But she also knew Marcel, so she understood his actions and also...

Ymir had an agenda of her own.

She'd tried so hard to be selfish like she never got to be, but in the end, she was pretty considerate. Even when she fulfilled her own desires, she was still not entirely thinking about what she wanted but what another wanted. Her happiness, was the happiness of someone else. Her fulfillment. What she wanted to do. That point in time when she got to return to being human, that moment of freedom for her was all encompassing. It was then that she knew herself truly and needed nothing else. Or so she'd thought until she'd chased after that someone she'd wanted to protect- Krista Lenz.

Historia Reiss.

The Queen of the walled island Paradis.

The ruler of their enemy.

What Ymir had wanted, was for this someone she saw herself in and had come to fall in love with-

To have that very freedom she had experienced, in her own way.

Having been given another chance at life she wanted Historia to have that chance she'd never had before.

Even if she rationalised it as her being selfish, in the end she didn't save herself, so he didn't think that was selfish at all.

Galliard sighs.

Was he always going to be followed by selfless, heroic idiots?

He just wants to do his job, his duty to his country.

That is what a warrior should be like.

What a sad excuse for a warrior he is, he laments tiredly.

Sitting up in his hospital bed, he recalls the battle of before.

They'd tried to invade Paradis with a smaller force. Many of their ships decoys so an elite team of them could struggle and sneak onto shore. They'd managed that. But they should have realised with the little amount of hardship they faced getting there, it was a trap. The battle had been harsh, and it was exactly as Zeke had described to all of them. Even with their titan powers, the enemy side had technology created specifically to kill them.

And also-

A product of the subtitan project.

Actually, he thinks, he's very grateful he'd made it out alive.

He'd faced off against one of them barely, a young woman with dark hair, a scarf as red as blood around her neck. Fluttering behind her, almost like a warning. She'd hacked and sliced into him at frightening speed and dexterity.

Had it not been for the Attacking titan getting into a difficult spot, she would have finished him off.

Had that only been it?

She'd maimed him.

But before she'd burst through his jaw and burst him out from the nape.

Instead of securing full capture, she'd looked down at him, searching, thinking, trying to see someone else.

When she could not determine it from her probing gaze alone, she'd asked.

"Did you meet a woman named Ymir?"

It was only when she'd seen the answer in his eyes-

She'd stuffed this letter into his coat pocket, and then quicker than his eyes could follow and his brain could register as happening, she'd hefted him up by the collar and threw him. Far. It'd hurt like hell but he'd lived.

He's unsure who else is alive.

A coldness running through him as he remembers.

Zeke, as the Beast titan had been occupied with the other descendant of the subtitan project. The man in that walled world that proclaimed him "the strongest soldier". If Zeke who could be considered the strongest of them had trouble with someone like that...

Galliard shakes his head. Looking around to see he is alone in the room. Wondering if he should call out for someone. Decides to wait in this silence a little longer. The peacefulness of ignorance. It's also the dead of the night so he doesn't want to bother.

He lies back down. Pulling the blankets up, he looks at the desk near him. His battered uniform hanging over the top of the chair there.

Right... wasn't there, a letter that Ackerman soldier had given to him? Why? Did she still think Ymir was alive?

From her cold expression.

No.

She didn't.

Galliard reaches to grab his coat, pulling it over with some difficulty. His wounds not entirely healed even with his powers. He searches the pockets. Maybe the letter wasn't in there anymore?

But it is.

As soon as Galliard touches it he knows.

Remembering Ymir handing off a letter to Reiner, making him promise the only promise he'd kept to her.

Galliard opens the letter, reading it beneath the moonlight.

_To my beloved Ymir,_

The letter is from Historia Reiss.

In it she recalls their first meeting, their wedding night, their struggles, her hopes and dreams, the future they know nothing about and how no matter what, Ymir better stop playing hero and come home. She misses her, and even if it's just for a few minutes... a couple seconds... Historia wants to see her... speak with her once more. Even if she is no longer herself. 

And.

What does Ymir mean she can't marry her yet?

They've been married this whole time?

Stupid Ymir.

Galliard can't help but smile at her huffy tone, even prevalent in the letter. Bemused. Which is why he's surprised when he feels wet and rapid, thick hot tears running down his face. He sighs. Thinking he should have expected it. They're not his tears. So it'd be really embarrassing if someone walked in on him now to see him crying over a letter not even addressed to him.

Galliard wipes at them but they won't stop.

"Stupid Ymir. What are you doing? She told you not to cry right? So stop crying already."

The tears continue.

Galliard supposes he can get over his frustration, since he was the idiot who decided to go ahead and read the letter even when he figured it was probably something like this.

He sniffs, folding up the letter, intent to put it back into the envelope when he sees there's something else in there. A post script inside the envelope.

_I know it may not fit you as you are, but it is yours truly as I am always yours._

He knocks the envelope over his cupped hand. A golden ring falling out onto his palm.

"Shit."

Galliard is the one who is starting to feel lousy.

Ymir really wasn't a bad person, she'd felt guilty for taking his brother's power. And she'd even wanted to return to them what they'd lost. Knowing she couldn't do all that, then at the very least, this could go back to them- the Jaw titan's power she couldn't unleash given originally the sort of titan she'd been didn't allow sucession on her part.

Galliard looks over the ring, reading the inscription inside it.

Her name engraved.

_Ymir Reiss._

The tears fall down quicker, hotter.

Galliard doesn't bother to tell her to stop anymore, trying not to think that the reason for her increased tears is him adding his own.

"Alright, if you don't mind I'll do this for your memory. And for Historia's sake as well. You won't let me get away with this unless I involve her right. I get that much."

Galliard tries on Ymir's ring.

A perfect fit.

The tears feel like they won't ever stop.

Lying against his pillows he holds his hand up. His sight blurring, as he gazes at the brilliant gold (like her hair) of the ring beneath the light of the moon hanging outside. Galliard draws his hand back down, holding it over his chest. Feeling his steady heart beat. His vision clearing. He reaches to take the ring off and return it with the letter. He'll give it to one of his superiors in the morning even if it is kind of embarrassing.

The letter is alright to pass on, in case they already know about it and are testing him.

A once unopened wax sealed envelope, definitely looked into when it'd not before.

His fingers are around the ring but they don't move to take it off. The strength to do so leaving him. Resistance.

"Are you serious?"

Galliard sighs.

Surrounded by stupid heroic selfless _romantic_ idiots.

Yeah he realises two of those words are practically the same but that's his point.

He can't take the ring off.

Galliard brings his arms up and folds them behind his head, the position one he's not used to but knows well.

"Fine. I'll keep wearing it but don't get pissy if I lose it or it gets confiscated."

Galliard decides to bargain.

Even though Ymir is a cursed name.

It is the name of their founder, the Goddess of titans, even if she isn't the same Ymir. It wouldn't be so bad to have the luck of her happiness watch over him even for just a little while?

Even if it may bring him to his ruin.

Before that, let it bring victory to his country.

As a warrior he will go to meet his fate.

As these two have met theirs.

It's the least he can do, he figures.

In thanks to Ymir for returning his brother to him.


End file.
